The Majestically Pure
by Nunin
Summary: A birthday, a creature inheritance, a new mate, an old friend. What else will happen this year to our Boy-Who-Lived?
1. Chapter 1

**Hello, this is my first story here, and my first story for Harry Potter. I am only at the beginning, and I do hope to make much progress on this tale, but please be patient because I do not yet have all of the fine details settled in this plot.**

 **What I do have so far is that this is going to be a Harry Potter Slash story. He will be with Severus Snape. If you do not enjoy such things, then please choose not to read further. This will also be a creature/mate fiction because I have always enjoyed such things.**

 **There is some background that might be helpful for you to know before you begin reading the story:**

 **1\. This story is beginning after Harry has completed his education at Hogwarts (excluding the preface which is far before).**

 **2\. I have** ** _decided_** **that the age for magical inheritance is twenty five. Wizards live to such an old age that their magic takes a bit longer to fully mature than normal physical puberty, hence twenty five (which also happens to be the age that gambling on horse races becomes legal in the United States).**

 **3\. I have decided to use Greek mythology in regards to the creatures that I chose, if you would like more information on any of the creatures that I mention please feel free to ask me or one of my most favored friends known as 'Google' .**

 **4\. I like Severus Snape and hate Dumbledore. Therefore, Snape did not die (as I hope you understood from the fact that this is supposed to be a Snarry). Dumbledore did die and everyone hates him. Or most people do.**

 **5\. I like the twins, so both are alive**

 **6\. Black is still dead.**

 **7\. I plan for Harry to be the 'submissive' partner. There might be switches in individual scenes for the characters, but I like him better that way for the overall story**

 **8\. This may turn into an mpreg, I am not certain. It depends on how far the story goes.**

 **9\. The story will begin with a T rating but will most likely move up in rating as the story goes on.**

 **If you have any questions or concerns please feel free to ask me any questions you may have. I appreciate constructive criticism, and if you find any typos or sections that need to be rewritten please inform me.**

 **I do not own this story or any characters within that are not of my creation.**

 **Please enjoy.**

 _Preface_

The child was the last thing one saw in the house, if it was ever seen at all. The house itself was large and spacious. Very bright, airy, and for all accounts a happy and quite regular home. There were pictures on the walls of two parents and a child. There were toys littered about and the house had a refreshing lived-in feel without being messy or dirty. The occupants of the home did not appear to be the most attractive, but such a thing was not really important if the quality of life was good.

Everyone appeared happy on the outside, joyous. Everyone but that child that was nearly never seen.

The child was situated under the stairs in a windowless broom cupboard with locks on the door. He was small, even minuscule for his age. His hair was dark and messy, skin sallow and pale. His eyes were deep into his skull with dark bruises underneath. His features were small and handsome, youth obvious on his malnourished face.

The child did not speak. He rarely ever made noise. He was a ghost of what a child should be. There was no laughter or smiles. His eyes rarely ever shown with hope or mischief.

The boy still dreamed, and he drew what he saw. He plastered images of smiling men and women together with him, him in their arms feeling cuddled and safe and loved. Things that the boy had no memory of ever experiencing for himself. He only saw it offered to others.

That was the life of the boy under the stairs. The boy with unnatural green eyes and a scar on his head. The life of a child who would be ignored and abused for the early years of his life. A life without peace, without happiness, and without any foreseeable manner to escape. A life that, unbeknownst to the child, would only get worse as he grew up.

 _Chapter 1_

Turning twenty five was an interesting occurrence. Most people took such a thing for granted; birthdays, holidays, and being alive for such occasions. This young man did not. Ten minutes before midnight he sat alone at his small table and wondered how on earth he managed to make it this far

It should be a given that he would live to such an age. For most people it was. For most people life went; be born, be a child, be in school, be a graduate, turn twenty five and become a fully mature wizard or witch, be a contributing member of society, be old, be very old, and then die. That is the normal order of events. One which everyone should get the opportunity to live through

Why then, is it such a surprise for this young man to have made it past his teenage years? Simple. This young man was the Boy-Who-Lived. The infant who defeated The Dark Lord at one year of age, and then did so again in his teenage years. The boy who survived the killing curse two times over. The boy who single-handedly saved the wizarding world of Britain. The boy who never thought that he would possibly make it this far.

And yet, here he sat at this table. A glass of firewhisky in his right hand, staring to space and waiting for his birthday to greet him once again.

The years since the war had finished were quite quaint to most. The majority had gone back to living their lives. Creating a new world out of the ashes that war had left it in. Students finished school, houses were rebuilt, the Ministry was searched and cleaned of unsavory politics and the wizarding world was in better shape for it.

This young man himself had finished his last year of school with his friends. He successfully completed all tests with slightly above average scores and then moved on to the real world.

He had disappeared for a bit. Traveled around and kept in contact with no one. He visited the dragons, climbed many pyramids, searched for treasure in mountains, and traversed through forests. After a year and a half he came back. The media caught up with him not long after and for months he had been hounded on where he had been.

The man opened a bookshop in Hogsmede and lived in the apartments that were built in upstairs. The rooms themselves were small and tidy. Everything was made from wood and was a dark, old brown. The windows were clear and let in a decent amount of light. There were few decorations or personal items. In fact, if one were to come up to visit, one might be inclined to think that the room was being rented out to someone who had to leave in a week and would never return.

When the man came back to himself it was two minutes to midnight. He had heard a few things about receiving a magical inheritance, least of which was that it could be very painful. He looked around the room another time and glanced out the window into the black night. No stars could be seen.

The man threw back the last of the whisky and placed the cup in the sink. If this thing was going to be painful, he figured, might as well get as comfortable as possible in his own bed.

As the clock chimed midnight, the young man began to seize in pain of the transformation, twitching and turning and arching to escape the burning that was consuming him. The few belonging in the room lifted and flew about, crashing into each other and the walls. He screamed.

Quite a bit away another man was in a similar state. It was not his twenty fifth birthday. He did not have an inheritance. Yet, he twisted and screamed and cried, and finally his eyes opened wide. He stared up at the ceiling, not seeing any of his own surroundings. His eyes rolled back into his head as blackness came over him, and at the same time he whispered, _"Harry."_

 **So please tell me what you think. I will try to get my new chapter in by next week. Again, if you have any suggestions as to the way the story should go, please contact me. I know this chapter was a bit short, but it is only the beginning and the story has to be set.**

 **An extra note that I would like to add is that I do not have access to Internet or wifi more than once a week, and sometimes less. So please, be patient. I will do my best to respond to any and all reviews and be punctual with my updates, but it really is quite difficult when I do not have a regular internet connection.**

 **Thank you!**

 **Nunin.**


	2. Chapter 2

**Hello,**

 **I am so glad you enjoyed the last chapter enough to want to read this one.**

 **Thank you so much to everyone who reviewed, messaged, followed, and favorited my story! I was honestly extremely surprised to get such a positive response so early on from so many people. I hope it lives up to expectation.**

 **I have solidified the plot a bit more (a lot more actually) so hopefully things will be rolling soon. I have also started on a sub-part of this story, explaining the creatures that will be showing up. I am not sure how in-depth I am going to be explaining the inheritance in the story (as we love our Harry confused) so for more clarity I will be posting an informational text (after the creature is introduced of course... I can't give away the surprise). If, later on, anyone feels interesting in using my take on these creatures for their own fanfiction please feel free! I would love to know what you are doing and have a go at reading it.**

 **Another thing to let you know before you continue, is that the creature inheritance is gradual. The twenty fifth birthday began the transformation and it will take a few weeks to cement itself into Harry. Therefore, you will not have him suddenly bursting into a strange and mythical creature. There will be confusion on Harry's part and a bit of a gradual buildup to when he actually figures out what happened.**

 **Please enjoy the chapter.**

Chapter 2

Harry groaned and flopped his hand over his eyes to block out the horrible murderous light filtering into the room. How could light possibly so vindictive as to try to kill him this early in the morning? Was it morning? What happened last night? The last thing that Harry could remember was that he was drinking a glass of firewhisky before his birthday...

Oh. The inheritance. Well, it wasn't pleasant but it certainly could have been worse. In fact, he'd been through much worse. Harry lifted himself onto one elbow and squinted at the mess that was once his room. From what he could see, as his glasses were somewhere within the mess and useless to him at the moment, his magical inheritance had wrecked the house.

All of his books were on the floor, some with pages detached and floating around the room. The ink jars and quills had all shattered, leaving smudges on the walls and bedding. His mattress was half off the frame and the blanket covered the bookcase. He, himself, was lying on the floor next to the undamaged window, the demons' creation that let in all the light.

His drawers were out in the living room and his clothes were scattered. The walls only had two holes that looked like they could be easily repaired and his wand was next to him on the floor.

All in all, not so bad. Harry had heard from Mrs. Weasley that when the twins had come into their inheritance the entire house had moved by a good five meters, and it did not land in the same way that it had left. That's why the dining room was now on the top floor and Ginny's room below the middle-floor attic.

Harry ached all over, even his teeth and the tips of his hair. He whimpered as he pushed himself off of the floor and almost immediately collapsed onto the mattress covered part of the bed.

He sighed and tried to push himself up once again. This time he was decently more successful. He even managed to make it into the bathroom before he fell into the tub.

"Goddamn it," he said.

Harry stared at the room surrounding him and shrugged. If he was already in the tub, might as well take a bath. Harry awkwardly struggled out of his clothes without getting up. It took far too much of his energy to complete such a simple task. Finally, after much more time than it aught to have taken, Harry turned on the water and took a moment to breathe.

He really didn't feel much different. No earth-shattering changes had occurred. For once in his life, Harry had managed something completely normal. He had gotten his magical inheritance, messed his rooms up a bit, and it was over. No explosions, no new universe that his magical inheritance had revealed to him, no deaths... Nothing. Harry beamed.

He relaxed in the bath for a good few hours. Relaxing his muscles and doing his best to become a human-shaped raisin. The magic of the tub kept the water warm, and Harry had put a notice on his shop window saying that it would be closed for the week. It had been precautionary, as he had not been certain what the effects of the inheritance would be or how long they would last.

Harry finally raised himself from the tub when his stomach growled enough to rouse him from his peaceful trance. He glared at his midsection, blaming it for ruining his momentary peace. When he lifted himself from the tub his muscles held, mostly healed now by the relaxation, heat and water.

Harry dried himself and momentarily glanced at his reflection in the full-length mirror on the wall. His hair was a wet black mess, even when held down by water it refused to cooperate. His face was sharp and angular, eyes set relatively deep in his face and shadowed from lack of sleep. His lips were soft and pink, set almost permanently in something between a smile and a frown.

Due to the habit of being starved as a child, Harry had never quite grown well and was left at about five foot three. His appetite had never returned, so he was left with a fairly stick-like body, all ribs visible, as well as thin muscles that had been generated from years of Quidditch and living life without a home. His fingers were long and thin, like a piano players aught to be, though he had never had the privilege of studying any musical instrument.

His body was covered head to toe with scars. Some thick, some thin, some pink, some white, some long, some short, some jagged and some smooth. Scars that he would never be rid of. Scars that would define him for the rest of his life. Define him as a _savior_ , define him as a _hero_ , define him as a _killer._

Harry shook himself mentally and turned away from the image. There was a reason that was the only mirror in his home, he liked avoiding the image of himself as much as possible.

Harry left the bathroom and glanced around the mess. He looked at the floor and picked up a shirt, underwear and pants. Something comfortable and casual for just wearing around the house.

Harry stepped carefully around his new obstacle course and headed for the kitchen. Thankfully, the magical mess appeared to have been contained to his room, so the rest of the house was left alone.

The kitchen, like the rest of the rooms, was small and simple. On one wall there was a small strip of cabinets lining the ceiling, ending with a large one that touched the floor. Under those there was a countertop that continued into the next wall until it merged into the sink. Next to the sink was the oven with a stovetop. All the cabinets had simple preserving charms on them, excluding the large one which was also equipped with a cooling charm. On the third wall of the kitchen there was a small table with two chairs, perfect for a bachelor who lived alone.

Harry went to the large cabinet and looked inside. He grabbed four eggs and a small block of cheese. He went over to another cabinet and brought out a plate, a pan and a spatula.

Harry set the pan on the stovetop and flicked his finger at the burner. The oven was made to react to the magic of the wizard who owned it and automatically set a flame that could be raised or lowered depending on the amount of magic put into the fire, no spell necessary. This also was a good child-proofing method to cooking because the oven would only light to the magic of those it was keyed in to. This was the oven that Harry had been in possession of for years, and it worked for him every single day of those many years.

For this reason it came as a great surprise to Harry that instead of a fire lighting on one burner at a medium flame, all of the burners blazed simultaneously on a level far higher than he had ever seen them go.

Harry jumped back and cursed waving his hand frantically at the stove to turn it off immediately. Just as suddenly as they had come, the fires went away. Harry breathed heavily staring wide-eyed at the kitchen appliance.

 _Okay,_ he thought _, I'm calling the store to come check that out as soon as possible. I really don't want it to set fire to my house._

Harry approached the stove warily, as though it might jump out and bite him with big flaming teeth. He grabbed up the eggs and cheese and set them back in the fridge, not daring to grab the pan still sitting on top of the oven.

He glanced in the fridge and grabbed an apple, figuring he could eat something more substantial later. If he was hungry. Which he never really was.

Harry moved into the living room of the apartment. It was the only other room in the house. It served as an entrance hall, sitting room, and connected to the kitchen and the bedroom. There was a small couch, that could comfortably sit three, a coffee table that more often than not was used as a footrest, a big poofy chair, and a fireplace that connected to the floo.

Harry went over to the coffee table and grabbed one of the blank pieces of paper that was sitting there, along with a quill. He quickly wrote that he was having some problems with the stove that he'd bought and could someone please take a look at it within the next few days.

Harry sealed the note and left it on the windowsill, it would be sent with the next owl that came along to deliver mail.

After he finished Harry sighed and looked around the room. With the shop closed for the week Harry really had nothing that he needed to do. He could contact his friends, Hermione and Ron. Or even spend some times with his godson, Teddy. He'd been meaning to do all those things for a while...

But something about looking around the room that he lived in alone, the mess that he created but didn't have the energy to clean up, it just pressed down on him. The feeling of pressing nothingness and fatigue swept over him, making Harry sigh and stare dimly at the room. He'd been having this same feeling for months whenever he thought about really doing anything other than going downstairs to work amongst his books. Even food shopping had become a dreaded chore. He despised anything that made him leave the safe-haven of his home. Or anything that brought others in.

Harry glanced around and took a seat on the couch, his shoulders slumping and seeming to fall into his bone-thin form. He had been meaning to do all of those things for a while, and simply get over his growing fears. He just hadn't had the time.

Or, at least, that's what he told himself to keep from the truth that he simply didn't have the strength.

 **Alright! That's another chapter done. We've started to see come of Harry's magic acting up (not that he realizes yet) and that he's also in a bit of a depression. The beginning of this story will be a bit angsty... It will be less as the story goes on. I think.**

 **If anyone would like to take a guess on what magical creature Harry will turn into feel free to message me (there's a bit of a hint in the title).**

 **Anyone that has questions on any part of the story or the character please feel free to ask me. I will do my best to clarify.**

 **Reviews and PM's are always welcome.**

 **Thank you!**

 **Nunin.**


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